End of the Awesome
by Obsessinator
Summary: What happens to Prussia after WW2? Don't read if you don't like character deaths. First fanfic, short one at that.
1. Prussia

It wasn't even that bright out. Actually, it was red.

Smoke clouds and fires blotted out the evening sun. I guess it was my sensitive eyes that made me squint like this. Why me? Why awesome me? I was so strong before, as the Teutonic Knights, taking over everyone's vital regions.

Except now. These fools are going to take mine. Had I been as healthy as I was before this dumb war, I would have beat them to a pulp. But I had been taken over, bossed around, and beaten myself.

America stood over me, his face serious. I glared angrily into his eyes, secretly scared about what my fate was. How could I end up in the mercy of such a young nation? England strode up to him, put his hand on his shoulder and looked down at me. Like I was a piece of trash.

But I'm not. I'm Prussia. I'm awesome. I can't let my past die! I can't let myself die! I'm---

My bird chirped sadly. I cupped him in my hands and looked back up at the two Allies. This was more important. Sucks to put my fate into these idiots' hands.

"What are we going to do with him?"

America paused before answering. His eyes never flickered from their emotionless glare.

"Let him die. We'll split him up later."

How bluntly he said that. As if he were talking about the weather.

Anger bubbled up in me.

"One less threat, isn't it!? You KNOW I can destroy you; that I can take you over in a second. You would destroy one of the most historical, one of the most AWESOME countries just to save your own vital regions!!!."

His eyes squinted slightly at that. I was breathing heavily, not just from my anger but from my weakness. The rest of the Allies came up, like obedient robots and stood next to America, who bent down and smugly said, "Survival of the fittest. You of all people should know that."

What a horrible truth. Is this how everybody else felt? Realization hit me at that moment. So did a sharp pain in my abdomen. I groaned and clutched my stomach. This really was the end of me. All my history. My wonderful diaries, exciting adventures.

I was so full of vigor then! I believed that nothing could stop me! I have ignorantly blasted my way forwards headfirst just to prove that I was the better nation. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I laughed at my own futile situation. Here I was, the world's most excited, hyper, and ambitious nations, dying to prove myself in a war that ended up killing me.

Nobody would remember me. I had lasted for so long; these buffoons would make sure the newest generation would hear my name and think nothing of it. I would simply be split up, my body territory. I would only be known as the country with one letter more than Russia. Everything forgotten.

Because the "heroes" decided to do away with one enemy, and gaining favor from whoever the hell is receiving my vital regions, like a present someone gives their lover after an argument. In the name of all that is good. Of the future. Of moving on.

I looked around me at all the blank stares and returned each of them. I put my bird on my head, who chirped weakly. Said action alone depleted almost all of my energy. I pet him one last time and shushed him.

At the Allies I said, "You will never forget this. I may be gone now, but it will be on your conscience forevermore that you ruined one of the most influential nations to save your own asses."

At that, I closed my eyes, sighed, and let the coldness that I had been fighting off since I hit the ground consume me. Goodbye Roderich, who even though I constantly tortured I actually cared about. Eliziabeta, who I have considered my funnest rival since our childhood. Ludwig. Sorry that I've been a horrid brother. That I've concealed so many things from you… I winced at the physical and emotional pain.

This really was the end of me.

I never thought I would die.

At least not like this.

My last breath tasted like ash and death.

Nothing like home.

Old man Fritz, why did you fail me?


	2. Germany

German expulsions, repairs, treaties, debt, promises, territorial changes. It was all overflowing my desk. Stacks and stacks of endless papers, letters of blame, mercy, hate--

I shouted and flipped over my desk in rage.

My brother was dead.

Breathing heavily, I stared at the mess on the floor. Going into a fit of rage wasn't ideally mature, but it was all I could do now. After all, Gilbert would just walk in any moment now, joke about the mess and--

I'm not a child anymore. And he's not here. I shut my eyes and pinched my nose. Gilbert was basically the only crutch that I had growing up. Recently, he had been extremely irritating and bothersome. I knew that it was all in his idea of good intention, but still.

I had hated it when he put his arm around me in front of other nations, calling me his little brother, making me feel belittled and weak. I had pushed his arm away then. Everyone had. After all, he seemed to be alright on his own. His enthusiasm alone was enough to be his only friend.

So why do I feel so guilty for... not being there? Not thanking him...?

For what? He never even told me who I was before.... before I don't know what. He wouldn't ever explain why I had this emptiness in me. In the back of my mind was a great blank. I would remember small things, try to connect them with the past. I would ask Gil, and it promised nothing but excuses or a change of topic. He was the only one who might have known of my past!

All he taught me to do was kill! Befriend nobody, and excell. To be just like him... Doesn't he understand how lonely that made me?

Is this how he felt?

I looked down at the mess before me. Sighing, I picked up the desk and gathered the papers. If it's one thing I knew about him, is that under all that crowing and egotistical boasting was a caring human.

Maybe my past was too delicate. He was just protecting me from something that I had been lucky enough to forget. He didn't have to but he did. Had it been anyone else, he might have used it against them. Instead he took me under his tutelage and had the decency to be kind.

He could have just left me alone to get up unsteadily off my feet and could have been my enemy. Instead, Gilbert called me his little brother. On the inside I had been proud. Outwardly I had acted unattached, like everyone else. Just to be accepted by the other nations. To have something in common with them.

Now he had died alone.

That was not the thanks he deserved. He deserved much more as my brother. The one who helped me when I was most vulnerable. Those Allied Force idiots made sure that I had a boatload of problems on top of being defeated, and I accepted them with no complaint. But my brother… gone and split up, forgotten. This was not how he was supposed to end.

Realizing I was standing in the middle of the room staring into nothing, I sat down at my desk, which was cracked at the corner now. Organizing papers, I stacked them as Complaints, Debts, and Territory. One title caught my eye.

_Kingdom of Prussia- Division Settlements_

Right. How has he been split up? Part of me hurt to see how shamelessly he had been broken, and part of me was dying to see where he ended up. It was that side that won.

_Parts of East Prussia will be under Polish Administration._

Figures. Feliks had lost a lot during the war. Gilbert had picked on him a lot throughout history as well.

_The Northern part of Prussia will be given to the Russian Federation._

Russia always had to have a hand in everything.

_The territories west of the new border of Germany compromise of parts of Silesia, West Prussia, East Prussia—_

…What? I carefully read over the last line. Shocked, I looked up. I looked up and smiled.

I'm receiving part of my brother's legacy.

Wasn't I supposed to lose land? How did I end up with—my brother? Am I being toyed with? My brother…

I held the paper close to my chest and shut my eyes. It's best not to question it. They truly can be idiots, and for that I'm thankful.

He won't be gone after all. I'll take good care of you. It's my turn now, after all.

I sat down and looked at the rest of the papers with a new attitude. Back to business.


	3. Kaliningrad

The lights when out that day, at that time. His dark violet eyes glowed in the middle of the darkness, glancing around nervously.

Outside in the background you could hear the shouts of men, the gunshots, and the running of motors. The boy only hugged himself closer. Where was Vater Prussia?

'He told me to stay here, whatever happens, that I should stay my ground and wait for him to come back.'

That's what he said. How long did he have to wait?

"I had been with him, helping him since he was the Teutonic Order. And since then he had protected me," he whispered to himself.

_'Köni, look at all those idiots. Scrambling, clawing, and crawling their way to the top. You know they won't be there long. You and I, we'd look down on them soon enough. In the meantime, let's practice on your aim.'_

Prussia would always be with him. So why was he taking so long?

He closed him eyes, and tried to remember Vater's last words.

"Don't worry, Köni, I won't let you down after all we've been through. See you!"

Königsberg had lived in Prussia's house and had no desire to leave. His people were Prussia's. His thoughts were Prussia's.

Through his shut eyelids tears forced their way out and trickled down his cheek. Vater Prussia was so strong. Nothing could happen to him. He was with Bruder Germany anyways. So what was that feeling of... doubt?

His eyes flew wide open. Königsberg cried out. His back arched against the sudden pain in his spine. Somewhere... something was wrong. It felt as if... he were being split up. No.. not him. His people. Prussia's people.

_'Everyone feels like that. Don't worry Köni. Others go thorugh that feeling alone. I'll always help you recover.'_

Prussia.

"No, no no no. Vater, nothing's wrong. I know you'll come back. You're just... hurt. You'll be fine"

The fighting outside had stopped. All that was heard was the cry of vultures fighting for their own share.

Königsberg stood up and tried to find the table. His legs felt numb and weighed him down. They collapsed under him. Crying out because of the helplessness. The only pain was the fear of being left alone.

He let himself be thrown into a tantrum, punching the floor to take his mind of the pain. Vater... where are you?

_'Köni, remember how to weild your sword! No, not like that. Keep your legs bent and be ready to jump away. You see? I told you. Get up and let's try again. Prove to me that you can beat me.'_

Vater's eyes twinkled mischeviously whenever they practiced. Königsberg would just stare at his Iron Cross and keep fighting.

After letting out all his anger, Königsberg controlled his breathing and listened. There were footsteps. Vater!

He shot up and ran to the door. Vater would be alright! The war would be won, despite all that's been going on. Then they could---

The door was kicked down. A tall figure stood enveloped in the shadows. Lighting in the backround briefly lit up the man's blood stained face. He smiled sadistically.

"You must be Königsberg."

The man bent down and swiftly grabbed his arm the second Königsberg tried to escape.

"Ahh, there will be none of that, da?" He tightened his grip on the boy's arm. "I am Russia, and I will be your new... caretaker."

Königsberg winced. Then that means...

Vater Prussia was...

"NO!" Königsberg swung his legs, which hit the Russian square on the chin. He barely even moved. Königsberg gulped.

"Don't worry," the Russian soothingly yet coldly said. "We'll be home soon. Very soon."

Prussia wouldn't be coming back. Königsberg was on his own.

He hung limply in Russia's arms. 'I guess this is the way I'll live now. But don't worry Vater. I'll make sure you'll get your vengeance.'

_'Things will always look up in the end, Köni_.'

Just the same way you always did. The way you trained me to be.

Russia hugged him closer. The smell of Vodka and metallic blood wafted in his nostrils.

"I shall name you Kaliningrad."


End file.
